


Word Dump

by captainrighthook



Category: Original Work
Genre: this is word vomit, word vomit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 21:55:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7481361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainrighthook/pseuds/captainrighthook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just everything I wanted to post somewhere but had no idea where to post it. They're all original shit, so. Yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nameless

Every day, millions of thoughts cross your mind.  Consciously or subconsciously… this is what we do, is it not? Aren’t we always making observations? Endlessly gathering data? Continually debating between different, usually impractical situations that somehow end in adding fuel to our fire of self-gain? You may act as selflessly as you want, but what’s so selfless about turning a blind-eye to the greed of capitalism and unknowingly dragging your feet across the ground of a land we have unrightfully acquired? Then again, in this society, isn’t that was being selfless means? When did the definition of selflessness switch from being altruistic to just not being narcissistic and who, I ask you, gave us the right to change it?

 

I bet you also think that judging people is wrong, but making reasonable assumptions about them is perfectly acceptable, right? I bet you’re the person who frowns down upon a sudden change in the media, yet buys every magazine you can that covers the topic. What about the person you buy the magazine from? Are you the type of person who “selflessly” pities the clerks at the grocery store, or that person sitting behind the counter of a gas station? But we’re all hypocrites, aren’t we?

 

While you read this, do you ever once stop to think about the fact that these opinions actually exist in the mind of a nameless, faceless being? Who am I? Look around you; look into the eyes of every person you meet, and look for me. I could be your father. I may even be your mother. There’s a strong possibility that I’m your best friend, and an even stronger possibility that I’m your worst enemy. I am the opinions of the new generation. I am the worst fears of the brain-washing institution that we call a government. I am everywhere. Right now, I’m in your mind, making a cozy home for myself. I’ll nuzzle right in the crack between your memory and pain receptors.

 

Do you feel me? I bet you can’t find me. Even if you could, do you have it in you to evict me? Don’t worry! I’m not here to change your opinions. I only exist where I am obviously needed. Oh, please don’t banish me from your presence. I feel like we’ve changed as friends, don’t you? Once you get rid of me, I think you may miss me, and you will search for me only to realize that I exist in the eyes of one of the very last people you see every night.  You blink. They blink. You sigh. They sigh. Isn’t it strange how they copy you?

 

However, when you look into their eyes, and examine their features, you may see me etched deep into their lines. Sometimes I am a bit of a parasite, but I can’t help it! I’ll destroy you if you let me. I guess it’s a good thing you don’t look as worn out as them, right? Say goodnight to them. They will return the favor. Smile and they will smile. You don’t quite recognize them, but that’s ridiculous, don’t you think?

 

How can you go around every day without crossing their path at least once? You must know who I am referring to, right? You don’t?! Oh my, how long has it been since you last looked in a mirror?


	2. Quit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more depressing TBH. I wrote this a long time ago though.

I want to quit because I know I can’t.

I want to quit because I have no reason.

I want to quit because I care.

I don’t want to care, I only want to quit.

 

I want to quit because you told me not to.

I want to quit because I don’t know how to smile.

I want to quit because I don’t care.

 

They say “Never let your enemies see you cry”

Well, you can watch me jump off a bridge for all I care

Stand there and think about what you could have done differently

 

I want to quit because it’d kill you

I want to quit because you’ll feel ashamed

I want to quit because I want to stop caring about disappointing you

I want to quit because you’re not to me who you think you are

 

I hear that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions

I guess that makes me lucky, huh?

Because I have no good intentions

I used to until I realized how useless they were

 

I want to quit because I care.

I don’t want to care, I only want to quit.


	3. The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear we're the same person.

I swear we're the same person.

It's like, you want to trust someone, you really do! You want to just tell them everything, and feel safe. But you just can't. You just fucking CAN'T! No matter how much you tell someone--and you could tell them a shit-ton--you'll never be able to tell someone about a problem that you have out of fear that you'll be rejected because you're strange. And my friend Jo, who I've known since I was 3...she just.

If she wasn't my friend, I would probably feel better. I also feel like if she wasn't my friend, I'd be a little lost. She's the kind of person who does the exact opposite of what we do; she'll tell you everything, because she needs to believe that someone loves her. I know I shouldn't be telling anyone this, but her parents divorced when she was 3, and her dad got re-married. She has two half-brothers who she loves very much but she never gets to see them. Her dad, step-mom, and half-brothers all moved to Iowa. She hasn't seen them in 2 years. She jokes about it all the time, but I can't help but feel she's secretly dying on the inside.

That's why I say she's the opposite of you and I; she'll tell you everything because she NEEDS to believe someone cares, I'll tell you nothing because I need to believe that someone doesn't. The thought that someone could care about me? It scares me; it gives me this impression that I have to live up to their expectations and I'll just let them down. So if I push them away, or only tell them things they want to hear, I'll have a better chance at NOT holding onto someone.

I understand what you mean about things bugging you for a reason nobody would understand. Maybe it's a reason that YOU don't understand. It's like how I love the sound of an old flip-phone closing. Or I actually love the *smell* of cold air. Or how I get annoyed by someone asking me, "How was your day?" I actually get defensive towards my MOM when she asks that because my thoughts immediately go to, 'Why do you want to know? Why do you care? I hate telling you something only to see that disappointed look on your face, so I'd rather you be angry at me.'

I put so many imaginary pressures on myself; irrational thoughts that help me to cope with being so alone. I always think, 'You're a fuck-up, and you have to do better or nobody will care. You have to make sure that everyone is happy--EVERYONE--because if they got hurt, and I knew I could have done something to help? I'd never forgive myself.'

Do you ever do that to yourself? Blame yourself for someone else's problems? Feel like nothing more than dead weight on someone's shoulders? Ask yourself 'Why would they like me?' I just don't know anymore.

Sorry for ranting...again.

But I'm sure if you just talk to him SOMETHING will come up. If it's bad, well then that really sucks balls, but if something good happens?! Well, shit, there you go! Something good happens. I know I do it a lot, so I'm kinda a hypocrite here, but you can't not do something just because you're afraid you'll get hurt/rejected/embarrassed. I did that too many times and I hated myself afterwards.

Brace yourself, this is really corny: I'd rather live a life of 'Why did I?' than a life of 'Why didn't I?'

(I'm almost positive that this message did nothing for you. And I'm so sorry about that...I really am.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember who I wrote this to...


	4. Exact-ly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is exactly what it looks like.

There’s a beautiful, beautiful girl I met at the super market not too long ago.  I remember thinking she was perfect, and I just knew that I had to have her.  I also knew that she was going to hurt me, but her smile was too addictive ignore.  But now that she is mine, I find myself reluctant to let her wander into my thoughts.

Our relationship is nothing short of strained.  We’re strangers by day and lovers by night.  That’s my favourite time of day, you know.  The night; when I get to see her and touch her.  I’ll hold her and watch her cold exterior fade away, leaving her warm and familiar in my hands.

She shines greedily in the moonlight, tempting me to indulge her “just this once.”  I usually find myself getting lost in her eyes…  I’ll look at her for hours, my expression glazed over, until her lips kiss my skin and bring me back to life.  Oh, and that kiss.  That kiss is razor sharp.  It’s so sharp that it stings, and not in the good way.

Her favourite colour is red.  She never really wears it, but when she visits me, she’ll tie red ribbons around my hips and legs.  Those ribbons will be tied so tightly that they leave marks on my skin for days.  She says I look “better” that way.  I don’t agree.

I think the ribbons are pretty, but the marks they leave make me feel disgusting.  Pathetic.  Ugly and worthless.  She knows this, and that’s why she ties only the parts of me that nobody else can see.  At least she’s respectful, if not monumentally abusive.

She never speaks.  She only smiles.  Sometimes I think I can hear her thoughts. I’m not exactly sure I want to.  She thinks I’m disgusting too.  She thinks I’m pathetic.  She thinks I’m ugly and worthless.  Despite all of that, she loves me even so, and I love her.

Lately I’ve been struggling, and so her presence is needed more than ever.  Even though she tends to be hurtful, she’s never let me down.  She’s always been there when I needed her most.  I’ll confess my loneliness over and over, and even if she doesn’t say anything, she’ll still sit and listen.  She’ll sympathize for a few minutes before giving me sweet relief.

Sometimes her method of comfort will cut me so deep that I’ll cry, but not because of her. I’ll cry because in that moment I realize I’m being soothed through the same method that makes me want to leave her… and I’m perfectly okay with that.

There’s a beautiful, beautiful girl I met at the super market not too long ago.  We met and fell in love, and my life hasn’t been the same ever since.  I can’t imagine living without her, but that’s probably because I expect to die at her hands.  The murder will be brutal but swift.  I’ll feel her kiss my wrists and tie big, pretty red bows around them.  She’ll lie with me until I’ve stopped breathing; a consolation even in my dying moments. 

Once I’m gone I imagine she’ll never kiss anyone again, but that’s okay.

I’ll be her first and her last, and nobody will ever love her the way I did.

At least, not exactly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I wrote this a while ago.


End file.
